


Heard it on the Radio

by toli-a (togina)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/togina/pseuds/toli-a
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there's been one constant in their mixed up lives, it's the radio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heard it on the Radio

1941:

Bucky’s favorite place is their fire escape – in the summer, when they’re stripped down to their skivvies and clutching the cold water that Mrs. Kostowicz lets them keep in her fridge; in the spring when even the smell of the garbage rising from the humid ground can’t overpower the scent of fresh flowers and new life in the air; in the autumn when the wind whips, bitter and full of change, through Steve’s golden hair and into his weak lungs.

In the winter, when he bundles Steve in every coat and blanket they own, because the stupid punk won’t _stay inside_ when Bucky climbs outside to smoke. “It’s nice, out here,” he says, and Bucky thinks so, too, can wrap Steve in his arms and tuck him under his chin where anyone can see, because it’s too cold to sit outside alone. It’s nice, to blow smoke over Steve’s head and listen to the Goldblums’ radio drifting through their closed window, Amos n’ Andy, Jack Benny, the Green Hornet and the Shadow if they time it right. It’s still early in the afternoon on a wintry Sunday, the sun shining and Steve breathing as evenly as he ever does.

There’s plenty of time to catch The World Today, and then climb back inside and warm Steve up the best way that Bucky knows how.

“We interrupt this broadcast,” and the Goldblums turn the volume as high as it will go, staticky and distorted. They open the window, knowing that Bucky and Steve have leaned half into their apartment to hear. “We interrupt this broadcast to inform you that the government has just confirmed rumors that the Japanese have launched an air attack on Pearl Harbor.”

Their entire neighborhood is silent, except for the hiss and chatter of radios down the street. Women have stopped in the midst of their errands, men and children crowding to the nearest radio to hear.

“We repeat,” the announcer says again, even though Bucky can already feel his fingers going numb where they’re curled over Steve’s, “the Japanese have bombed Pearl Harbor, the naval base in Hawaii.” And Bucky can already hear the postman shuffling through the letter that will come, the Selective Service Act that will send him to fight against the Japanese, and then who will be left to keep Steve warm?

 

1944:

One of the Commandos finds a radio, flips it through crackling channels until Vera Lynn croons over the dusty, European box, no doubt abandoned for months like the farmhouse they’re in. No one understands Bucky’s flinch, or why he flees the noise for the safety of their borrowed rooms.

No one but Steve, who finds him smoking on the roof – the closest thing to a fire escape, in the woods of Estonia. Steve, who wraps him in a stolen blanket, tucks Bucky’s chin under his head, and sings “We’ll Meet Again,” in his ear until Bucky is finally warm enough to drag them back inside, still wearing the blanket, and force Steve to dance.

The Commandos turn the volume all the way up, making Vera sound a little like Colonel Phillips, but they drown the song out entirely with cheering when Bucky dips Steve backward until blond hair skims the creaking farmhouse floor.

 

2015:

“This is not music,” Bucky informs Steve archly, when Captain America follows him to Sam’s roof, his phone tuned in to one of the streams Wilson had programmed it to play.

Steve shrugs, wedges himself under Bucky’s metal arm and twines their legs together, watching Bucky blow smoke rings at the night sky. “Sorry, Buck, but I think they stopped airing the Shadow a few decades ago. Did you want me to find a podcast? Maybe something from those ‘classic radio’ sites?” He grins, letting Bucky kiss him even though he tastes of cigarettes, the acrid flavor a remnant of Steve’s past. Of his first kiss, his boyhood love and the man he intends to keep.

“I have all the classic Americana I need right here,” Bucky tells him, metal and flesh tugging Steve to his chest, Steve slouched so that he fits under Bucky’s chin, both of them watching the horizon and listening to something that seems to be all synthesizers and syncopated beats.

“If you are having sex,” Sam calls from the window, “I am not bringing you beer. Also, stop having sex in or on my house, for the love of god!” He brings them beer anyway, and ear plugs, because with three veterans it’s better to be prepared.

Steve fiddles with his phone, turns the volume up as Vera Lynn’s voice - strange without the familiar static and distortion - comes over his speakers. He starts singing softly, more a vibration against Bucky’s chest than a sound, smiles as Bucky kisses his cheek and lifts a beer with his metal hand.

“Happy birthday,” Bucky toasts, and Sam taps his beer to theirs.

Steve rests his arms on Bucky’s knees, presses his back into the rise and fall of Bucky’s lungs, and sings along to the radio as fireworks light up the sky.


End file.
